


The Frog Prince

by Sefiru



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Anal, Crossdressing, Flogging, Humor, Latex, M/M, Master Roshi's porn collection, Ninja, Oral, Princess Vegeta, Quest, Roleplay, True Love's Kiss, WAFF, curse, frog curse, harem slave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:27:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27051892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sefiru/pseuds/Sefiru
Summary: Vegeta gets turned into a frog, and only true love's kiss can change him back. There's just one problem ... (reposted from AFF.)
Relationships: Son Goku/Vegeta (Dragon Ball)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

The giant lizard roared and struck, shattering rocks and tree trunks as it hit. Or rather, missed, Vegeta thought with satisfaction. This quest was turning out to be entertaining after all. _“Beneath the Mountain of the Red Fangs lies hidden a treasure of ancient power, equal to full five kingdoms in worth,”_ the old scroll had said. (And how it had come into the old turtle man’s possession, especially filed between _Catgirls Gone Wild_ and _The Kraken Always Comes Twice: Tentacles for the Discerning Viewer_ , he would never know.) _“Guarded by a great beast, the like of which no mortal man’s strength can defeat, the like of which has slain the greatest heroes of many ages …”_

The treasure didn’t particularly interest him, and the author wouldn’t win any prizes for literature, but the prospect of a super-powerful monster was much more to his liking. Training in the gravity room was all well and good, but the robots were too predictable. And sparring with Kakarott was … just … _no._ So, feeling the need for a vacation, the Prince of All Saiyans packed a capsule of supplies and set off for the (atrociously named) Mountain of the Red Fangs.

The monster lived up to its advertising. He’d found the place last night, camped, and started in at dawn. It was now late afternoon; he had been fighting for eleven straight hours. A challenge worthy of a Prince. “Final Flash!” he shouted, aiming the blast at the lizard’s underbelly. It tried to turn its armored back to the threat, but it was too slow. He was winning, but barely; this had taken all of his skill and power. Just one more … “Solar Flare!” The lizard shuddered and dropped to the ground. _I declare this vacation a success._ Vegeta landed beside it and surveyed his damage. _Not bad. Maybe I can cut off one of those spikes as a trophy …_

A whirlwind suddenly appeared beside him and he powered up again, but no attack was forthcoming. A figure appeared, a bony human in a robe and turban, a fan of large feathers in its hand. “Behold, Warrior, the Guardian of the Treasure of the Mountain of the Red Fangs, which you have won in rightful combat.”

“Hn. Keep it. I only came for the fight.”

“What? You do not wish to possess this great treasure, of which there is no equal in all the universe?”

“Who the hell writes your scripts, old man? I don’t want it.”

The apparition turned livid. “How dare you mock the Treasure of Red Fang Mountain! I curse you! I curse you with the form of a frog; only the one who has lived in your skin shall know you, and only the kiss of your true love shall restore you!”

_Fuck, even his curses are la_ – Vegeta’s thoughts broke off as pain consumed his flesh.

***

When Vegeta came to, the world was a much changed place. Part of it was that he was now about six inches tall. Also, his eyes were on the sides of his head. He was, indeed, a frog. A particularly large, bright green, yellow-eyed frog, as he saw on looking into a nearby puddle.

_“Damned spirit guardians and their curses,”_ he tried to say. It came out as “Ribbit.”

At least he could still use ki. He lifted himself and, after thinking about it, the puddle water, into the air. He might as well go home; his skills seemed to be intact, and if he could read and write, he could prove who he was. _Looks like my next project will be collecting the Dragonballs._ It wasn’t as if the curse could be reversed under its original terms, after all. _True Love, my ass._

***

His arrival at Capsule Corp went as badly as he expected. No one was home when he got there; he landed on the kitchen table and occupied himself by catching houseflies. Not long after, the entire horde of Z fighters piled in the door, fresh from who knew what idiotic amusement. Yamcha was the first to spot him. “Eeew! How’d that thing get in here?”

Vegeta added that to the list of things he would make the human pay for. As he considered finding out if a frog could Ascend, the Z fighters gathered around curiously; Kakarott brought up the rear. “Guys, that’s Vegeta.”

“Huh? It’s a frog, Goku. How could that slimy thing be Vegeta?”

“I dunno why he’s a frog. But I’m sure that’s him.”

_How the hell do you know?_ “Ribbit.” He floated up until he was eye level with the other Saiyan, scowling as best he was able.

“Ack! It’s floating!”

“I guess it does look a little like Vegeta now …”

_Of course! The fusion – he really_ has _lived in my skin. Does that mean the other clause works literally as well? Fuck._ “Ribbit.”

“But if it’s really Vegeta, how do we get him back to normal?”

“Well, I remember there was a fairy tale like this.” Before Vegeta could react, Kakarott scooped him up in both hands and brought him towards his face. _Damn. He’s not seriously going to_ … He was. Lips touched nose – there was a flash of nothingness – and then Vegeta was once again in his original form.

Lip-locked with Kakarott.

The first thing he did was deck him.

“Wow. It really was Vegeta.” Ignoring the comment, Vegeta gave them all a deadly glare and stalked out of the room. Fortunately none of them noticed his hard-on.

***

It was impossible. Unbelievable. Outrageous, ludicrous, preposterous, absurd. He, the Prince of All Saiyans, could not have a musclehead third-class idiot for his True Love. That was what he wanted to say, were he not standing on the porch of Kakarott’s hunting lodge, snapping his tail in irritation. His arrival had been greeted by a shout of, “Vegeta, hi! Hang on a second!” followed by much thumping from within. Why was he not surprised?

Just the hint. Just the hint that there was some kind of interest between them was enough to send his hind-brain into the most perverted fantasies. He’d imagined whipping him with a branch of thorns, as they used to do in the royal harem. Or pouring honey all over him and then licking it off. Or lying on his royal couch while Kakarott mounted him … _gah._ He’d come here to confront the third-class idiot, only to be left waiting on the doorstep while the moron did his spring cleaning. “Okay, you can come in now!”

Vegeta snorted. “If you think I’m here for your amusement, Kakarott, you’ve …” He slammed the door open and strode into the house. He caught sight of Kakarott. And all of his consciousness was drowned in one single word, in all of its diverse meanings. “…Fuck.”

Kakarott was dressed – barely – in a Saiyan harem slave’s costume. A brief pleated kilt, more like an apron, that tied at the back over the tail. Heavy gold cuffs at wrists and ankles, inlaid with precious minerals. Matching collar with two thin chains that ran down his chest and flanks to another ring at the base of his tail. His tail had come back. Vegeta had never seen Kakarott with a tail before. A lush, sensuous, shimmering black tail. He just stopped himself from licking his lips. “How the hell did you get that outfit?” 

“Well, I found this in Master Roshi’s collection years ago, and, well, I thought you might like it.” He pointed at a book lying on the sideboard. To Vegeta’s surprise, the title was in Saiyan: _“Erotic Art of the Royal Harems.”_ He leafed through it, ignoring the descriptions written in his native language; he remembered this book, Nappa had had a copy, and he and Raditz had spent much time in their adolescence perusing it. The old geezer really _did_ have everything. “What possessed you to think this would be a good idea?”

“When we kissed that time you seemed to like it, so I thought maybe we could, you know, go a little further.”

“Does the harpy know about this?”

“Aw, she doesn’t care anyway; it’s a what-do-you-call-it, open relationship. We swing both ways.” And, as Vegeta’s jaw hung open at this calm announcement, “So, you wanna?” Kakarott stretched languidly against the couch, his tail curling against his ankles.

Vegeta’s brain stood still as all his blood surged to points south. “You – how many men have you been sleeping with!?” _Instead of me, bastard!_

Kakarott shook his head. “There’s only one man on this planet I want.” His tail curled again in the opposite direction. “I got some roses.” _Roses?_ Vegeta turned around. Beside the door, in a vase, was a bundle of long-stemmed red roses. Thorns still attached. _Did he read my mind or something?_ Beside them on a hanger hung a … garment. A sleeveless silk robe, about knee length, in his signature colours of blue and white. The royal crest was embroidered on the left breast.

Vegeta stared at it, wavering between two options. This was his rival, the man he had sworn to defeat in combat, whom he’d hated for years, or so he’d thought. But … that damn fine tail was being offered to him, free for the taking. His right as Prince. Without a word he seized robe and hanger and disappeared into the washroom. When he came out, Kakarott was no longer on the couch; he was arrayed on a fur rug before the fireplace, in a pose that Vegeta pegged immediately. _“The pleasure slave presented for the King’s approval” by Kail, oil on stone panel, reign of Vegeta XXIII,_ was the book’s description. But the slave in the painting was a pasty-faced weakling compared to the living, breathing work of art in front of him.

Kakarott flicked his tail again; Vegeta’s eyes followed it like magnets. “I think this is where I say something like, how may I please you, my prince?”

Vegeta smirked. He picked up a rose and swung it. “In the harem, they used to flog slaves with thorn branches to heighten the senses, make the skin more sensitive. How well do you remember that book?”

Kakarott rose up on his knees, back to the prince, with his hands on the back of his head. “Like this?”

He must have the soul of an artist. Or model. The curve of his spine, the lay of his tail, the glow of firelight on his skin matched the paintings perfectly and surpassed them. _It’s a plot. How can I ever fight him now, when I’ll see_ that _every time I face him?_ If it was, he didn’t care. He brought the rose stem down on Kakarott’s back with a snap and listened to him gasp. On a Saiyan’s tough skin the thorns did no more than sting; Kakarott’s tail snaked across his ankles in pleasure. Vegeta struck again and again, the scent of roses, sweat and Saiyan musk filling the air.

_I must taste him._ Vegeta suddenly dropped the rose and jerked Kakarott’s head back, then plunged his tongue into the other Saiyan’s mouth. He pushed him down, straddling his waist for leverage, and stifled a gasp of his own as he felt Kakarott’s hardness under him; it sent a tingle through the base of his tail. And his robe, too, was split from tail to hem … _later._ He pressed Kakarott all the way to the floor, running his hands all over his muscled torso. Rock hard, but velvet soft, he’d never noticed that before; and flushed alluringly from his caning.

Vegeta settled himself between Kakarott’s legs. He reached around to untie the kilt and threw it aside. Now this harem slave was bare before him, except for his golden shackles. He ran his hand down one long leg, and then curled it around Kakarott’s straining shaft; Kakarott jerked and a drop of fluid seeped out. Vegeta leaned down to lick it off. Delicious. He ground his hips into Kakarott’s and both of them growled. His cock-tip stroked Kakarott’s entrance … wait. He grabbed the chains hanging from Kakarott’s collar and used them to haul the other Saiyan up. “The lube. Where is it.”

“Right here.” Kakarott stuck a hand under the edge of the fur and came up with a bottle; Vegeta snatched it from him. A quick slather, the bottle went over his shoulder, and he grabbed Kakarott’s thighs.

“Now, Kakarott, bow before your prince!” With one sharp thrust he was inside.

Tight. Hot. He could feel the heartbeat around his flesh, deep and rapid. Their tails twined together of their own accord and the fur crackled between them. He needed more leverage, more sensation; grasping Kakarott’s hips he stood up and put his whole body weight into his thrusts. Kakarott apparently liked the view. He purred, and his tail tightened around Vegeta’s. Kakarott, his greatest rival. Five thrusts, ten, sweat beaded his chest and his skin flushed with exertion. He was a constant challenge: physically, in battle; mentally, he was a puzzle to be solved; emotionally, to confront feelings he would rather ignore. Twenty, twenty-five, his vision blurred; Kakarott was gasping. What did a Saiyan love better than a challenge? He lost count, his balls tensed, he roared and shot his seed into his lover’s body. A moment later Kakarott shook and came, groaning Vegeta’s name. His semen splattered all over his face and chin.

Vegeta lowered them both to the fur again, then crawled up to lick the other Saiyan’s face clean. He curled up, satisfied, by Kakarott’s side. Constant challenge. Hot body. He could live with this. _How long was I in denial anyway?_

“Hey, Vegeta? How did you end up as a frog?”

It didn’t take long to tell. He felt comfortable telling Kakarott; the younger Saiyan never laughed at him. At the end of it, he leaned over and nuzzled Vegeta’s hair.

“What was that for?”

“I’m honored that you’d have me as your true love.”

“The Prince of All Saiyans does not have one-night stands.”

“Great! Maybe I should go raid Master Roshi’s stash again.”

“Does he have more Saiyan porn?”

“No, but there’s some martial arts stuff.”

“Are you joking?” Vegeta blinked at him.

“Nuh-uh. _Lust-Crazed Ninjas_ is pretty good, but the sequels are crap. And then there’s _Have Me Both Ways,_ starring Wild Stallion Saotome – see, if anyone beats him they get to use his body, but if they lose, he makes them pay a penalty …”

Vegeta lay back and ran a hand through his hair. “This I have to see. Especially if you put as much effort into it as this scene.”

“Hey, everyone has a hobby.”


	2. Lust-crazed Ninjas

“Do you really think he’ll wear it?” Chichi giggled.

“Oh, he will. He didn’t want to, but I asked if it was because he was chicken, so now he has to prove his manhood.” Goku gave his wife and partner in hentai-ness a peck on the cheek. “Say hi to the girls for me.”

“Sure thing.” She slung her hand-stitched whip case over her shoulder and stepped through the door. “You have a good time too.”

Chichi and Goku had a reputation in The Scene; she did the sewing, and he did the leather, metal and latex work. Tonight Goku was wearing one of his better pieces. Paper-thin, skin-tight black latex in one piece from neck to toe, along with a nylon mask, so that only his eyes, tail and hair spikes were exposed, and of course it had some special hidden features.

He teleported directly to the hunting lodge’s roof, sensing that Vegeta was already inside. Excellent: the stage was set.

*** 

Vegeta never quite knew what to expect when he walked into Kakarott’s lodge. The first time, of course, it had been a Saiyan harem; since then he’d seen it decorated as a tropical beach house, as a psychedelic disco, as the interior of a hollow tree, as a dozen other improbable scenes. Since he’d admitted his feelings for the third-class Saiyan – amid the aforementioned harem scene – he’d been able to admit a few other things. Such as that the wheels had to be turning _somewhere_ in there, if Kakarott could put all of this together. And yet he persisted in acting the buffoon! It was enough to make Vegeta grind his teeth.

Today, the lodge was a classical Chinese palace, including a painted screen, potted bamboo, and an elaborately carved bed with a brocade cover. On the bench at the far wall was a box containing the … dress. Kakarott had talked him into wearing a _dress!_ And then he had the gall to suggest Vegeta _wasn’t man enough to wear it._ Idiot! Moron! Bastard! Vegeta growled. He’d walked right into it, too; he’d been curious about what it was like to bottom, and Kakarott had suggested this “kidnapped princess” roleplay.

He opened the box; to his relief, the dress was his usual blue with gold and silver dragon motifs. No pink, and no flowers. He peeled off his spandex and slipped on the … costume …, surprised at how perfectly it fit. He slid his feet into matching silk slippers, then yanked on satin gloves as he usually did his gauntlets. _Bring it, lover of mine. Even in a dress I’m man enough to take you on._

Kakarott’s ki appeared on the building’s roof; good, the show was about to begin. Vegeta walked to the fireplace, putting his back to the windows. As he expected, a flicker of ki and the rustle of draperies signaled his partner’s arrival. He whirled. “Who intrudes on the Princess’s chambers?” 

He would have gone on, but – _Kakarott. Naked._ No, better than naked: whatever he had coated his skin with shimmered wetly, tracing every bulge and furrow and …

The “ninja” laughed. “Do not try to escape, Princess. You will be taken to the secret fortress of the Z Clan for the pleasure of our master, and there is nothing you can do to stop it.”

That was a straight line if he’d ever heard one. “Oh? Nothing?” He slinked up to Kakarott and ran a finger up the _slick, gleaming_ surface of his chest. Kakarott shuddered and sucked in his breath.

“Beware, Princess.” His voice dropped an octave – much better, why couldn’t he speak like that all the time? “Or I will decide to take my pleasure on you right here. Do not unleash the lust of the Z Clan, for it will be your doom.”

Vegeta’s eyebrows twitched as he stifled a laugh; that was an almost direct quote from the video that inspired this little drama. He drew himself up haughtily. “I doubt that. All this posturing is obviously compensating for something.”

“You dare!” the “ninja” growled. He scooped Vegeta up bodily, threw him down on the bed and climbed on top of him. It’s about time! That slick covering was enough to make Vegeta pant and drool, and adding a display of strength on top of it made it hard for him to think. It made it hard, period. He yelped in mock indignation and pretended to struggle, but he was really trying to rub against Kakarott’s crotch. 

Kakarott was having none of it. He caught Vegeta’s leg under one knee, caught the other ankle with his tail, and trapped his wrists under his hand. This left him one hand free, which he used to remove Vegeta’s slippers and gently stroked the soles of his feet. Vegeta squirmed at the feathery touch, but Kakarott had him pinned. It was maddening! “Get on with it,” he snarled.

“Be patient, Princess.” The black-covered fingers undid the toggles of his dress and pulled it open across his chest, and then started teasing his nipples. He twisted; he knew he should lie back and enjoy the scene, but he couldn’t help moving. His skin tingled all over from passion, but especially in his groin and under his tail. The fingers dipped into his navel and he groaned.

“Shh. We don’t want anyone to overhear us, do we?” Kakarott bent down, pressed their lips together. Vegeta’s next groan came out muffled. Kakarott peeled off the gloves, a fraction at a time, without lifting his mouth from Vegeta’s, and without letting his hands free. And then he wrapped their tails together; Vegeta spasmed, arched, forgot all about the role he was supposed to be playing and the fact that he was wearing a dress. For the moment all he could think about was the silken fur stroking rhythmically against his own. He barely noticed the costume come off him entirely, or the fingers that slipped between his thighs and into his entrance.

Suddenly Kakarott stilled; Vegeta growled in protest and forced his eyes to focus. The “ninja” smirked at him wickedly. “Now, Princess, I will show you the Z Clan’s secret weapon.” His free hand went to a hidden zipper pull at his groin, which he pulled down to reveal – a cock and balls also covered in shimmering black, every contour visible. Vegeta’s eyes went wide; he licked his lips. It looked so elegant, like an ebony sculpture, and he just wanted to touch it. “Let go my hands, bastard.”

“I don’t think so.” Instead, Kakarott moved forward so that he was straddling Vegeta’s chest, and his shaft was within reach of Vegeta’s mouth. The prince(ess) didn’t hesitate; he stretched out his tongue to explore the, heh, secret weapon. The black material had a peculiar taste, but he liked the texture, and he noticed that there was a small hole at the tip of the shaft to let … fluids through. While he was there, he collected a drop of salty juice. Kakarott was breathing harder; he leaned back, and this time Vegeta felt the finger go in. Vegeta licked the vein behind the cock head – Kakarott wiggled in his hole. Vegeta nibbled on black-coated balls – Kakarott added a third finger. It didn’t hurt at all.

Kakarott pulled back, arranging himself between Vegeta’s knees. “Ready?”

“It’s about time, you insufferable ninja!”

Kakarott laughed and stroked their tails together again. He produced a bottle of lube – fisted himself once, twice – lined up, and …

Vegeta writhed and howled. He could feel every twitch of his anal muscles, and every spot that that gleaming shaft touched. He wanted to move! But Kakarott still held him down, while he drew out and pushed back in, torturously slow. It seemed he had learned too well from the prince’s own talents. In … out … in … out … Finally, when Vegeta had been thoroughly bathed in pleasure, Kakarott changed his pace. He pressed their lips together, took Vegeta’s cock in his hand, and rode him hard until that cock head rammed his climax out of him. As his seed poured out, he could also feel Kakarott jetting into him. He knew his lover had powerful orgasms, but feeling it from within was something else, and just that little bit sweeter. He fell back on the bed as limp as a bag of jelly.

A warm, wet cloth appeared and started cleaning him. “How did you like receiving?” Kakarott asked.

“Now I know why you like it so much.”

“Do it again?”

“Hn. I like your costume. And your secret weapon.”

“Mm-hm.”

“And next time, you’re wearing the dress.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ribbit ^_^


End file.
